Wampa Hunter
by M. Jade Skywalker
Summary: A former Imperial officer turns bounty hunter.
1. Chapter 1

Oh shoot.

The six year old girl ducked inside a tunnel, her brown braids swinging. She turned the corner and doubled back around. There, she waited, holding her breath, waiting for signs that they had noticed her sudden change of direction. There was nothing. Stealing a glance both ways, she hesitated, and then boldly emerged into the passageway. Turning the opposite direction she had been going, she walked quietly a few paces until she reached the dropped data-card. They hadn't seen it! Flinging the ever persistent braid back over her shoulder, she bent down, and reached for it. But just as she began to pick up the data-card, she felt a hand jerk her shoulder. She turned, and came face to face with a blaster. He had found her. He had waited in hiding. He had sprung the trap, and she had fallen for it. And now, he was going to shoot her, just like he shot her parents . . .

Anya Dariss woke with a start. That wasn't how it was supposed to be! She had gotten away! She had! They hadn't been waiting for her when she went back to retrieve the card! She shook her head, trying to make sense of things, and came face to face with Lieutenant Gillins.

"Get up Dariss," he said roughly, jerking her shoulder again, while waving the blaster in her face. "It's red alert and you're needed on the bridge. We don't have time to lie in bed all day. This is the Imperial Starfleet after all," he finished with a sneer, and stalked out of her quarters.

Anya glared after him for a good minute, and then got out of bed. She pulled on her uniform, and gave her short hair a quick brush. After a quick glance in the mirror told her she looked presentable, she headed up to the bridge. She hated the Empire, hated every measly bit of it. But it gave her the chance to fly. To fly! To have a ship at her power, as she wove it among the stars! That was what she loved to do. And if it wasn't for that, she wouldn't be here.

Her parents died when she was six. She didn't remember them, just faces and names. But she did remember when they came after her. Her father had known they were coming, and had given her a data-card.

"Keep this for Dad, An," he had told her. "I'm going to give it to a friend of your mum's on Alderaan, but I want you to hold it for me. Don't give it to anyone else, you hear?"

Then he gave her a kiss and pressed the card into her hands. It was none too soon, for there was a knock on the door.

"Go to the ship," he whispered harshly. Then, a blaster bolt rang out, and Anya saw her mother fall. She didn't wait any longer but ran.

Bringing her mind back to the presence, she hurried on to the bridge and slipped into her seat. All she got was a glare from Admiral Nane. Her fingers flew over her console, pressing buttons, flipping switches, as she guide the Star Destroyer towards the small fleet of smugglers. She knew that they were smugglers, the ship design was unique to the Grayson group. Then, she slowed the ship down, and watched as red and green lasers shot towards each other, creating a brilliant dance among the dark black of space.

But it was not long before this brief pause in her duties ended, and the battle was over almost before it began. Only debris was left from the smuggler's ships, one ship had gotten away. Following orders she took the ship back into hyperspace and set it on its course. Then she waited. Arriving late for duty to the bridge during a red alert was one of the worse things one could do. A dressing down and reprimand and some sort of punishment were expected. The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. Yet nothing was said. She felt glad when her shift ended, and she could leave.

There were only a few other times that had made her as nervous as she was now. Why didn't Nane say anything? What was he planning? Surely it wasn't considered treason to be late . . . on the other hand, she was late during a red alert, a battle situation, and she should have been on the bridge. Brushing a stray hair away from her face with her hand, she continued on down towards the mess, where she got a warm plate of food and sat down to eat. She hadn't gotten very far into her meal before the shadow of Lieutenant Gillins fell over her. She bit her lip, and looked frustrated and angry for a split second before she turned towards him. He'd always been jealous of her, for she got the position he had wanted, flying the ship. He ended up stuck sifting through communiqués more often than not.

Gillins had a smug look on his face as he looked down into the face of his nemesis. He hated her. Oh, how he hated her. He was always waiting for some day, when he could prove her to be the traitor he knew she was. Then, he could take her place, and laugh at her when she was stuck with the communiqué job. Gillins saw her glare at him, and immediately put on his "don't try that with me, little girl" face, that he knew exasperated her. He didn't say anything, but waited for her to speak. The more he could annoy her, the better. After all, she completely ruined his life when she got a better score on the flight test than he.

"Something you want, Gillins?" she asked.

He responded with a smirk. "Admiral wants to see you in his office, Dariss."

"Like I'm gonna fall for that one Gillins."

"Suit yourself. It's not my position at stake, so why should I care."

"Gillins! I swear I'm gonna . . ." With that she shot him her most furious glare, and headed out. This was worse than she had expected. Admiral's office. Oh wonderful. And just what did Gillins mean by her position being at stake?


	2. Chapter 2

Anya Dariss approached the door to Admiral Nane's office. She sighed deeply, and slowly walked up to the door. She had been in his office only once before. If she had a choice about going in there, she would not. Screwing up her courage, she walked in. Admiral Nane looked up at her, with the sternest expression she had ever seen on his face.

"You were late to the bridge." It was not a question. "You were late to the bridge, during a battle situation. Why?"

"I slept in, sir."

"You slept in? Do you understand the rules for serving on this Star Destroyer Lieutenant Dariss?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you understand the penalty for violating those rules, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

"I know you are a fine officer. But I can not allow you to get away with this. As a result, I am switching your position with that of Lieutenant Gillins."

"Yes, sir." Anya inwardly winced. To be taken away from flying the ship . . . that's the only reason she was here.

"If you can prove yourself to be a reliable officer, I will consider reassigning you. Dismissed."

Anya Dariss walked out of there, and headed towards her quarters. Her roommate wasn't there, thankfully. Checking through communiqués for signs of Rebel activity? While that Gillins had her post? What point was there to be in the Imperial fleet then? She wanted to cry, she wanted to tell the entire galaxy she thought it was unfair, but she couldn't. Instead, she went up to the bridge for her next shift, acting as if nothing was wrong.

Anya sat down at the communications station, and began sifting through communiqué after communiqué. Shortly after Gillins came up. As he walked towards the helm, he shot her a smug look from his collection. She didn't even acknowledge it. These communiqués were so boring. The chances the Rebels would have a message in here was slim at best. After what seemed like forever, but was in fact only a few hours, her shift ended and she was able to leave the bridge. Upon seeing Gillins head for the mess hall, she decided to run a check up on her shuttle, before she ate. That way the chances were fewer that she would run into Gillins.

It didn't take Anya more than ten minutes to get to the bay. There was the shuttle she flew, standing proud, and calling to her as if she were one of them. She paused a moment, taking in the breathless beauty of the elegantly defined lines on the Imperial shuttle. It stood there, with wings folded, a white bird waiting for the signal to fly. Shaking herself from her reverie, Anya walked towards it quickly and quietly. Stopping at the door of the shuttle, she quickly keyed in the code, and waited for the door to open with its familiar whoosh. But it stayed shut. She frowned and furrowed her brow. She knew the code, hadn't she entered it in many times over the past two years? With a sigh she tried it again. Still no luck. And again. What was wrong? After spending a good five or ten minutes trying code after code, she gave up in disgust, and headed towards the mess hall. Maybe she could think clearer after she ate.

Lieutenant Kyle Dowlin looked up to see Anya enter. He motioned her over to his table, and she nodded in response. After she picked up her dinner she went to sit by him.

"Late in getting here?" he asked.

"Went to check out my shuttle first," she said simply. "But I must have forgotten the entrance code."

Dowlin looked at her in surprise. "You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" she asked.

"Nane decided to give responsibility and "ownership" of the shuttle to Lieutenant Frank Gillins. It's been buzzing all over. You must have heard it."

"Nane? To Gillins?" Anya set her jaw furiously. How could he do that?

"Yeah. Gillins has been bragging about it to everyone."

"That was my ship!" she exploded.

"Calm down Dariss." Then he looked at her closely. "You seriously didn't know? Nane didn't tell you?"

"That's it," Anya said, slamming her fist into the table and standing up. "I've had enough of the games Nane is playing. I'm going to find out what's going on."

"Hey! Wait! Dariss . . ." but his call died on his lips, as she stormed out of the mess hall and headed to the Admiral's offices.

Anya Dariss strode purposefully down the hall and entered Admiral Nane's office. He looked up, and his eyebrows rose, but that was all. Without waiting for any type of acknowledgement, Anya began her tirade.

"Why did you give Gillins my ship? You never told me. You could have told me! What did I do to deserve this? You already took my post away on the bridge! You could have at least left me with this!"

"Dariss," he said coolly, his eyes narrowing. "You said you knew what the regulations are. Questioning a superior officer violates those regulations."

"I don't care," stormed Anya. "You never told me you were giving my ship away. You had no right to do that!"

"Lieutenant! That is enough. You will not question the decisions I made. I did what I did, and my reasons are not for you to know. You are confined to quarters til further notice, and you are not to speak with Lieutenant Gillins. Dismissed."

Anya turned and strode out of there, furious and angry. As she walked down the hall to her quarters, she saw Frank Gillins. And all at once the anger and frustration and hatred that she had kept the lid on came boiling over. He glanced at her, and smirked.

"So," he said. "I hear that you can't fly your shi . . ."

He did not get any farther. Next thing he knew something was coming towards him. Anya had punched him right under the nose as hard as she possibly could. He went flying backwards, and hit his head on a protruding corner of the corridor wall. Anya walked over and stood over him.

"That is the last time you will insult me or my ship, Gillins. That is the last time you will mess up my affairs."

"You're right, it is," came the voice of another officer. Anya turned around and came face to face with Captain Glearis, Gillins' cousin. "You won't get away with that Dariss." Then he raised his fist, ready to punch her, but he didn't count on the swiftness of her wrath. Before he even knew what was happening, she had slugged him as well. As he fell to the ground, he managed to call to security.

Within seconds security guards came in, and grabbed Anya's arms. Not too long later Admiral Nane appeared.

"What is going on here?" asked Nane sternly.

"That, girl," hissed Glearis carefully. "Punched both Gillins, and me."

"Did you strike a superior officer?" Nane said to Anya.

"Yes."

Nane turned towards one of the security guards. "Call up medical. Lieutenant Gillins needs attention. Then he turned back to Anya. "I warned you Dariss. I told you of the regulations, and you said you knew them. And then you do this." He frowned. "You have the potential to be a wonderful officer. Yet you let your temper fly too often. Well, this time has been once too often. I hereby place you, Anya Dariss, under arrest, and sentence you to be court martialed by the Imperial Court of the ship." He nodded at the guards. "Take her away."


	3. Chapter 3

Court martial. Full realization of what was happening flooded over Anya the next morning. Here she was, sitting in her cell, about to be court martialed from the fleet. What was she going to do with her life? No ship to fly, no place to live, nothing to call her own. Not too long after the guards arrived to take her to the courtroom. Anya didn't struggle, but went with them, a plan already forming in her mind. She was known as a quick thinker throughout the ship, and didn't let down her reputation now.

Admiral Nane glanced over the courtroom. The two Imperial officers skilled in law took their places as Anya Dariss was brought into the room. With a quick nod, the proceedings began. The prosecuting attorney stood up, and walked to the centre of the room, and acknowledged the Admiral.

"Honoured representatives of the Empire, today is a sad day in the history of this ship," began the prosecutor. "Yesterday, a junior officer had the audacity, the audacity, mind you, to strike a senior officer. And they could not stop after striking one, but had to continue and strike a second one. These unfortunate officers who were struck by this Lieutenant Dariss, were our own Lieutenant Gillins and Captain Glearis. In accordance with standard Imperial procedure, I demand that Lieutenant Dariss be court martialed from the fleet. We cannot allow our officers to so easily get away with breaking the Regulations of the Fleet. Not when we are at war. It casts a bad impression on the ship, and ultimately on the Empire itself. We can not allow the Empire to suffer because of insubordinate officers such as this one."

Anya ground her teeth, her glare only getting stronger as time went on.

"Lieutenant Dariss, would you like to take the stand?" asked Nane. "You do not need to, but if you would like to the regulations allow it."

Anya gave a nod and went over, shooting a killing look at the prosecuting attorney as she went.

"Sure, I punched them. But it's not like they didn't do anything to cause it. I didn't know that Imperial Regulations allowed senior officers to belittle, taunt, and look down upon other officers. I have had more than my fair share of that from Lieutenant Gillins since I came aboard this ship. And his good-for-nothing, scheming, and power-hungry cousin didn't do anything to help the situation. I couldn't take it anymore. So I punched them. They had it coming. Besides, its about time someone did that. I'm not sorry for it, and I'd do it again."

A ripple of shock went through the onlookers. Dowlin shook his head. If she continued in this manner, they'd have no choice but to court martial her. Or something more serious. They'd been in the academy together, and become friends then. What would become of their friendship now?

Captain Glearis looked angry, and jumped up shouting at Anya. She responded in kind. Admiral Nane called for order, but got no response. Finally he motioned to guards to come and stop this.

"Order!" he shouted once all was quiet. "Order! I will not allow this court to violate the Imperial rules for procedure! No one will speak unless they are ordered to. Do I make myself clear?" General nods from around the room gave him the response he was looking for. "Now. Let's try and conduct this in an orderly fashion. I do not want any insults thrown at one another. This _is_ an Imperial Court, after all. Shall we continue? The prosecuting party may now take the stand."

"Admiral," began the prosecuting attorney. "Can we allow junior officers to be insubordinate to their senior officers, letting them go unchecked, unchallenged, disobeying at will? This violates all that the Imperial fleet stands for. It goes against the standards raised by the fleet, it tears down the reputation we have built. No true Imperial would dare challenge his senior officer. No true and loyal Imperial would call helpful criticism from senior officers being put down. The acts of this officer have resulted in the death of one of this ship's finest young officers. Because Lieutenant Dariss could not control her temper or her actions, she has willingly murdered an Imperial officer. Can we allow this behaviour to continue in the Empire? Can we allow it to go unpunished, can we afford to lead our officers along in the false belief they can get away with anything? It is my belief, and the belief of Captain Glearis, that we cannot. Thus, I am asking in this Imperial Court, for Lieutenant Dariss to be stripped of rank, and discharged from the Fleet. I rest my case."

Admiral Nane nodded. "Does the defendant wish to make a final response?"

With a curt nod Anya Dariss once more stepped up to the stand. "It was not my intention of killing him. Just because things don't go the way you want, you jump to conclusions, thinking such and such is true. Well, I don't know why you do this. Maybe it's just proof of how backwards the Empire has gotten. But if you're just going to sit there and spout the same thing five different ways, and they're going to listen to you, I'm _glad_, _glad_, you hear, that I'm getting court martialed. I have no wish to be associated with the likes of you." She practically spat the last word, and with a final glare in the direction of Admiral Nane, the prosecutor, and Captain Glearis, she turned and went back to her seat.

With a sigh, Nane collected his notes and stood up. "Fellow officers of the Imperial Fleet, I come before you today with the judgement on this case. Here, with you all as witnesses, I hereby strip Anya Dariss of the rank of lieutenant, and discharge you from the service of the Empire. You will be dropped off on the nearest planet we come to. This court session is now adjourned."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll give you ten thousand credits for that ship," the woman in the grey jumpsuit said. She had shoulder length brown hair, and blaster on her hip. The ship she was referring to was a Corellian HLAF-500 that looked ready for a junkyard.

"Ten thousand?" whined the owner of the lot. "You will rob an old man of his only way of living? You cannot be serious."

"I'm very serious. That's my final offer."

"Surely someone as well off as yourself could afford a hundred thousand credits for that beautiful ship?"

"I told you my final offer. That's it." With that she turned and walked away. _Will I ever get off this wormhole of a planet_ though Anya Dariss. _It's been three months since I've been stranded on here, and I've only got myself a few more credits. Oh well._ She walked into a bar, handed the bartender a coin, and took her drink. Nearby she heard a couple of traders talking amongst themselves.

"Did you hear the size of the bounty being placed Garjlah's head?"

"No, how much is it?"

"One million dekteri! For Garjlah! Think of it!"

"One million?" one of the traders whistled. "Who has pockets that size other than the Emperor?"

"Elvon Drask. He's a renowned politician who has pockets that never empty. He can make credits out of thin air they say."

"What a bunch of hogwash," Anya interjected.

The three traders glared at her. "Hey, you got a problem with that missy?"

"No one makes credits out of thin air. And don't call me missy, or you'll regret it," she responded, eyes flashing.

"I'm just repeating what others say," the first trader muttered under his breath. Then he spoke normally again. "But, I betcha you couldn't find the guy. They say," and here he looked around, "they say he has a hiding spot on Nal Hutta. No one can come back alive if the person they're looking for is under the care of the Hutts."

"Oh yeah?" retorted Anya. "You think I can't out-think a bunch of Hutts? Ha!"

"Fine," said the second trader rolling his eyes. "Prove it then. I betcha ten thousand credits you won't come back from Nal Hutta alive."

"It's a deal," she said, and stalked out of the room.

Anya Dariss made her way towards the ship yard, and quickly located the old geizer.

"Listen up, and listen closely. I'm not going to repeat myself. I'll give you ten thousand for that HLAF,-500 over there now, and pay you another three thousand when I return. Deal?"

"But . . ."

"That's the only way you'll get an offer out of me," she said warningly.

"Fine," he mumbled. "But I need a name to put on the papers."

Dariss thought for a moment, and then responded. "Taryn. Taryn Holm."

Several hours later, after discovering where Elvon Drask lived, and ensuring that the hyperdrive really did work on the ship, she was in hyperspace. It was the first time in three months she could truly relax, and after a bit of programming so it would wake her up before the ship left hyperspace, she fell asleep.

Picking up the data pad she ran back down the hall towards the family's yacht. She had to get there before they did. Brushing her braid from her face again, Anya Dariss slowed as she reached the door to the hangar. There she heard voices.

"She's not here. Guess she's in one of the sub-corridors."

"Why didn't you check there first?"

"I didn't want to have take off you numbskull!"

"Six-year-old girls can't fly a ship."

"How do you know this one can't?"

"How do you know she can? If you've made it so she could have escaped . . . you're in trouble with the boss."

"Shut up, we gotta find that girl."

Anya waited until the voices disappeared down the corridor, and entered the hangar bay. She headed over towards her family's ship, but saw that they had posted a guard over it. Turning away, she headed for another hall. She had to get out of here. As she headed out onto the surface of Corellia, she ducked down a side street and turned onto a back alley. She didn't know where she was going to go, but she needed to get away. As she turned onto another street, she was grabbed by two large men.

"Get your hands off of me!" she screamed. "I didn't do anything!"

"Hey now missy, don't you worry about this. No harm's gonna come to you."

"What are you doing to me? Leave me alone!" But try as she might, her struggles yielded nothing.

"Perfect little kid to use for our operation, eh, Cramer?"

"Sure is. But she's got a temper, that may cause a problem."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Anya protested.

"Hey missy, you cut the chatter, or I'll be forced to do it for you. Come on Travis, let's get out of here."

Travis and Cramer pulled her down another side alley and into a building, and then under the surface of Corellia, where dangerous operations were located. It didn't take to long for Anya to find out that she had been kidnapped by smugglers. They left her alone most of the night, or was it day? You couldn't tell that sort of stuff from this dingy place. After she woke up Cramer headed over.

"Hey missy, geddup. You're gonna be doin' some work today for me an' Travis. Here, you take this data pad," he said shoving it into her hands. "Now, I've got me some spies all around this place. So, don't you try any funny stuff on me. What you're gonna do is this, an' you better be listenin' carefully, you're gonna take that there data padd, and bring it into Ledresse's. You know where that is, right? Good. There'll be a guy there in a pair of green boots. You hand it to him and you say these words. 'Corellian fighters prefer wide space lanes.' Then you walk out and come back here. Simple enough. Now get going."

Anya woke up with a start, to hear some annoying beeping going on. She slammed her fist on the control panel and the beeping stopped. In half an hour she'd be coming out of hyperspace.


	5. Chapter 5

She gripped her blaster, to make sure it was still there, and slipped into the scum ridden streets of Argon VI. Walking normally along, she slipped into a bar, and glanced around casually, looking for her contact. There he was, at a corner table. She walked up to the bar, paid for a drink, and walked casually towards the other end of the room, glancing every so often for a table, and finally sat down at the corner booth.

"How much you got?" asked the Twi'lek in a low voice.

"I'm giving you a hundred credits for this information.

He frowned for a minute, and then continued. "Garjlah has been said to be seen on Tatooine. That's the most recent news anyone's got of him."

"Who else is looking for him?"

"How much you gonna pay me for that?"

"I'll throw in an extra hundred," she said, pushing over some more credits.

"No one. You're the only one. So far. Don't worry about this or anything. But, I do have to keep records, just to be on the safe side with authorities. What name can I put?"

"Maya Russeau." Then she stood up and left the bar.

As soon as Anya Dariss exited the doors to the cantina, a hooded figure walked silently over and sat in her place.

"Payment first," hissed the Twi'lek.

"No," came the quiet response. "You will tell me the information, and I will determine what its worth."

The Twi'lek frowned, and made to protest, but something warned him not to. "Very well," he sighed. "Her name is Maya Russeau. That's all I know, and all you're gonna get out of me. How much are you paying me?"

The hooded figure made no reply, but left a coin on the table and headed out. Going quickly to his ship, he took off and headed out of the systerm. Maya Russeau. He hadn't heard that name before. As he flew off, he did a search for it.

Meanwhile Anya walked back down the street towards her ship. As she turned the corner she heard someone running up behind her. Pulling out her blaster she turned quickly around. It was one of the scum from the cantina.

"What do you want?" she asked gruffly.

"I have some information that may interest you," the creature whined.

"Well? What is it? I don't have all day for the likes of you."

The creature shook it's head. "No money, no information."

Anya sighed. Was that all that these things cared about? Money? Well, if that's the only way she was going to get it . . . She handed him a small pile of credits.

"I'm waiting."

"You're being followed," it said, and then paused for effect.

"Followed?" She frowned as her mind ran over the possibilities. "By whom?"

The creature looked around, and lowered its voice, as if it was afraid to speak the name that was on it's lips. "Zorkos." And then, after another quick glance around, it hurriedly ran back the way it came from.

Anya Dariss stared after the alien for a few minutes, and then hurried back to her ship. After she set the coordinates in for Tatooine, she thought over what the alien had said. Zorkos. She had heard of him in the Empire. A notorious bounty hunter that the Empire had been wanting to capture for quite some time. And he was following her? Why? Did he know of her mission to find Garjlah? She made a mental note to ask about him when she arrived at Tatooine.

Finally the twin suns of Tatooine shone bright against the planet. Skilfully lowering the ship down, she checked for any signs of followers, and headed towards the repair shop she'd been directed to. Before entering she made a thorough sweep of the area, and then went inside.

"How may I be off assistance?" asked a tall droid.

"I need some parts for a T 16," she replied.

"Certainly. Master Genneth can help you. He is in the back room."

Nodding her thanks, Anya went in the direction the droid sent her in, and found what must be Genneth. He looked up from some piles of parts.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"Yeah, I need some parts for a T-16."

"You Russeau?" he asked.

"Yes."

"How much you got? That's what determines what you get to know."

"How much is it worth?"

The man paused for a minute and thought. "I'll give it to you for two hundred."

"How much extra is it to throw in some information about someone called Zorkos?"

He looked at her and paled. "Okay. You better get out of this. No one crosses Zorkos and lives to tell about it. You want information about him, I'll give you this for free. Stay far away from him, and anything involving him."

"How much extra?"

"You're really set on this are you?" Genneth shook his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you get fried by someone you've never seen. For five hundred credits I'll tell you what I know."

"Five hundred extra? I'm not going to play games with you Genneth. You'll give me the information I want, and you'll give it to me for less than six hundred. Or you'll be the one frying." With that she drew her blaster and levelled it at him.

"Five hundred for all," he murmured. "Garjlah has heard there's bounty hunters after him, and he's gone into hiding on Nal Hutta, where he's under the protection of one Darula the Hutt. Nothing more is known. Zorkos on the other hand . . . Zorkos is one of the most lethal bounty hunters in this part of the galaxy, since the death of Boba Fett. As I said, no one who gets him mad lives to tell about it. I'm warning you. If he's following you, you may want to back off now."

Throwing another five hundred credits on the table, Anya moved closer with her blaster. "What are you hiding from me?"

Genneth looked more than a little nervous now. "He, he, he was in here earlier. Asking about a Maya Russeau. That . . . that's all I know."

"It better be. And you'd better be silent about this, or," here she waved her blaster, "I'll find out. And it won't be a pretty sight."


	6. Chapter 6

Anya looked down at the planet below. It would take some skilful flying to land on Nal Hutta without the wrong people noticing something was up. But she was a good flyer, and she could do it. It didn't take her too long to land the ship and soon she was on the surface of Nal Hutta. She left her droid Chas with the ship while she went off.

Now, to find a way to get into Darula's dwelling. Landing was the easy part compared to getting in there and getting out. Not to mention she had one of the best bounty hunters in this part of the galaxy following her. Ducking down a side alley, making use of overheard conversations about Darula the Hutt, she managed to find the entrance to the palace. Anya Dariss glanced up at the doors and then had an idea. She hated doing it, hated it more than anything else almost, but, if she was going to find Garjlah, it would have to be done. The last time she did it she was sixteen, and her hair much longer, but the length of it didn't really matter.

Kiernan Thanet stood just inside the doors to the palace of Darula the Hutt. He wore a long cloak, and stood in the shadows. No one would notice him, yet he could notice everyone. He frowned as he saw the newest newcomer enter. She looked like many of the other girls who came in here, but she carried herself differently. He peered after her for awhile, then turned back to waiting. How he would enjoy finding out who she really was But that would not do. He was waiting. Waiting for Zorkos. For surely he would come – no one else was capable of capturing or killing Garjlah. And if he, Kiernan Thanet was able to kill Zorkos . . . how much more his standing with the Hutts would increase.

Evening came, and still there was no sign of anyone else. And Thanet could not stay away any longer. His absence would get to noticeable. Signalling to another, he quietly whispered for him to take up watch here. Then, as silently as he had appeared, he left to rejoin the others.

Anya Dariss mixed in with others, her gaze all the while searching for Garjlah. His was a name known throughout the Empire – a notorious bounty hunter, almost as infamous as Zorkos. No one had been able to catch him. That is, no one had been able to catch him after he escaped back to the Hutts. As she stood and mingled amongst the crowd, she remembered . . .

Anya glanced around the room. The Corellian Diplomatic League band was playing, and many of the guests were dancing. Her target was on the far side of the room. The tricky part was getting there, receiving the datapad, and somehow concealing it on her person. It was small, so it should be easy to hide . . . or so she hoped. There, the guests near her and begun to scatter a bit. An open path lay to the other side of the room. And the person she was to meet was positioned right at the end of the path. As she began walking, she suddenly felt like the room was going to spin. The distance from where she was to the other end of the room seemed like miles.

She felt an iron-like grip on her shoulder, and was jerked around, coming face to face with a gruff looking man in a militaristic uniform. Without a word he pulled her to the dance floor. The feeling of dizziness was getting stronger. Somehow she had to get away from him. That thought seemed burned into her head. _I must get away. I need to get away._ But how? As the man waltzed to the side of the room near the porch, he pulled her out with him.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"What's it look like?" he responded harshly, also in a whisper. Then, she felt the cool steel of a knife on the back of her neck. "You've interfered once too often. And I intend to put a stop to it, once and for all. First though, hand over that datapad you've got."

"I haven't got a datapad. And why don't you use a blaster? It would be quicker and easier," she responded, hoping to buy time to pull away.

"Not gonna work on me, missy. With a blaster, you might not die. With this, I'll make sure you're dead. And then I'll take the datapad. Either way, whether you hand it to me sooner or later, you're gonna die missy."

Anya sighed, and moved her arms as if fumbling for something in pockets. She didn't have any, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Pulling her shoulder up, she quickly pulled it down and back, knocking the arm holding the knife back, while she threw her body forward. Then, she ducked down and slid out of his grasp. She still felt dizzy, but she needed to get out of there. That much she knew. Running quickly towards the building, she hit a man standing in the hall.

"Here, let me fix your hair," he said, and did so. "There. Now you're all set. Run along miss."

Without pausing she ran down the back hallways and out onto the streets. The crisp cool air of the Corellian night hit her like a board. The dizziness disappeared, yet she had to pause and lean against a building to catch her breath from the sudden change of air. Running again, she headed towards the hideout that she knew so well . . . since she first was brought there ten years ago.

Cramer met her at the door. "Well, where is it missy?" he asked, a stern look on his face. "Whatcha running for? If you bungled this . . ."

"In . . . my hair," she murmured, gasping for breath. "Running . . . because . . . being chased. Or was. At the reception, don't know who, someone came. Tried to kill me, and take the datapad. Managed to escape."

Before she could pull the datapad from her hair where the man had put it, Cramer pulled her hair from it's elaborate style, and jerked the datapad out. Travis, meanwhile, questioned her about the man who attempted to kill her.

"What did he look like? Who was he?"

"I don't know who he was!" Anya shouted in exasperation. "I've told you. I don't know! He had a beard, and was very gruff looking. I can't tell you anymore about him than that. I've told you, I felt dizzy and faint when he came over. That doesn't help me notice what people look like."

Travis shook his head. "No good Cramer. Can't tell who exactly it is. Fits the description of at least three men of the Grey Hound smuggling organization. At least we know it's them. This isn't good."

"Nah. It won't be too bad. At least they don't have the datapad. See, I told you she'd be good. Look. I've got business to attend to. Wait for me for a year, and if I don't show up, the worst has happened. You take over the business. Maybe this here miss might be even more helpful."

Anya Dariss drew her mind back to the present as she was jostled by someone else. It was loud and noisy – something she hadn't dealt with since before her court martial. She'd get used to it again. She had too. She did before, back on Corellia. She could do it now. But first things first, to find Garjlah. Then she could worry about getting out of here.


	7. Chapter 7

Anya Dariss sighed as she sat down on the small cot in the Hutt's palace. She had been here for two days . . . . and there was no sign of Garjlah. The girl looked up as someone entered. It was a Rodian.

"What do you want?" she asked with a frown.

"You," he paused, looked around, and came closer. "Are looking for Garjlah?"

"Possible," she said with a shrug.

"How much will you pay for this information?"

"What makes you think I want this information?" Anya said, suddenly on the defensive.

"You look for him. I have information. You will get it, or, I can report you . . . either way, I win."

"Fine. I'll give you two hundred." She needed to find out how serious he was.

Which was pretty serious. He put his hand to his blaster. "Not going to get very far with that price. Now, you're of use to me, alive, or dead, so it doesn't matter. More than two hundred from you, I'll get more than that from the Hutt."

"Five hundred."

"You mock me, bounty hunter. I don't work for so little."

"This is a good cause, my life!" she snapped. "Fine. One thousand."

"Ah, I knew we could reach an agreement. Now, he keeps to the third level, around the northern side. Remember, we never saw each other."

Then, the Rodian disappeared as quietly as he came. Anya sighed. At least she had some idea as to where he was. Though she was now short one thousand credits. It was either that or her life, and she'd get more than that from Garjlah.

The Rodian walked down a hallway, and bumped into a hooded figure. A hand reached out and pulled the Rodian out of the way. Several credits were pushed into the alien's hand, and a blaster was pointed at its chest.

"Who?"

The Rodian shrugged. "She didn't say. Human female."

"What did you tell her?"

"Garjlah was on the third level, Northern side."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Good." Then, he squeezed the trigger. The Rodian fell limp at his feet. Turning away, his cloak swirled about him as he headed down the hallway. This would be interesting. Very interesting. Kiernan Thanet walked away, his mind pondering what he had just learned.

Garjlah slipped down the hall. Haha. He would outsmart those darn fool bounty hunters. They couldn't catch him. As he turned the corner, he found himself face to face with a blaster. Before he could react, the creature facing him collapsed, and a woman appeared. He looked at her carefully, something was familiar about her. But he couldn't tell, especially with her jaw dropped.

"Garjlah?" she asked quietly.

"Well," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I guess I've been outsmarted. If only it was for my foolishness."

"Were you a Grey Hound?" she asked slowly.

His eyes narrowed and he looked at her dangerously. How did this girl know that? And who was she anyways? He had never seen her before . . . or had he? Who _was_ she? Then, suddenly, it came to him. Six years ago, on Corellia, at a dinner for the anniversary of the Corellian Shipping Industry. He looked at the woman in front of him again. Yes, that would be about right. Her hair could have been cut since then . . . but as he looked at her face, he realized that it was indeed the same girl who had bothered the Grey Hound smuggling operations so many times for Cramer and Lewis' group. Heck, he was willing to bet that she was the same girl who he was supposed to kill. But a bounty hunter? Besides, Cramer and Lewis were killed, or at least Cramer was, he personally blew up Cramer's ship. Where Lewis was he didn't know, or care. So, what did she do once that was over? Turn bounty hunter?

"Well, you certainly know who you're up against" he said. "I'll grant you that."

"I'm not the most patient person in the world Garjlah," she responded, a warning tone to her voice.

"Yes, I am. And you must be that impertinent little brat I tried to silence six years ago at the Corellian Shipping Industry dinner."

"Didn't do a very good job, apparently. Come on. I'm not staying here until the universe ends." She motioned with her blaster, and he moved. At least he'd have time to get a plan together.

"Apparently," he said, with a brief, gentlemanly nod, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"I don't have time for this Garjlah. You either move now, or I'll shoot you and just deliver you dead. Either way, the reward's rather substantial. Move it."

He didn't protest. _Maybe_, he thought, _if I can play up to her, do everything she wants, she'll lower her guard. Yes. That will work quite nicely. But, what to do after that? Oh yes, I half-forgot about that technique . . . that will be perfect._

Kiernan Thanet slipped outside the palace. Darula's security was rather lax, and the guards easily bribed . . . it wasn't difficult to get outside without being noticed. With a quick glance in both directions, he headed down the roadway to one of the old docking bays. Docking was cheap there as a result of poor security, anyone could walk in, and do anything, and the docking officials, if you could call them officials, just ignored them. And information about the vessels being stored there was rather easy to come by, you just had to ask.

He found the ship rather quickly, an old Corellian Heavy/Light Attack Fighter that looked like it was ready for the junk heap. He smiled to himself. This wouldn't take long, and from what he knew, the owner was coming to pick up the ship rather soon. Another quick glance told him the deck officers had left for the day. This happened to be one of the most lax docking bays there was. He reached his hand into a pocket under his hooded robe, and pulled out a small orb. A few flicks later, it was nicely imbedded in the HLAF, silently ticking the seconds off. Thanet moved away from the ship, in as unhurried a manner that he could while still hurrying. Not too long later he heard the satisfying sound of a boom, as the thermal detonator, so nicely placed, blew up that HLAF. Now, all he had to do was wait. And wait he could. He was still waiting for the chance to kill Zorkos, patience was something he had in abundance, at least right now. So, Thanet sat down, and began to wait.

The small droid, nestled between some cargo boxes nearby, had been keeping an eye on the ship. Upon seeing his charge obliterated, he rolled away, taking care not to be noticed. All that he was concerned with at the moment was finding his owner, and informing them of the rather unfortunate mishap


End file.
